Change Nothing Into Something
by KillerMinnie
Summary: Keep moving even when others stop. Annabelle has named this as her advice ever sense her mother died when she was seven. Now at eight years old, she has changed for the worsed. But, when she crosses path with a young thirteen year old girl, her life changes completely. The mysterious girl wishes to help the young girl no matter what. However, is Annabelle too far gone to help?
1. Chapter 1

Annabelle shivers in the cool, dark attic as she sits in one of its four corners by the single square window that provides just enough light to see. The dust floating through the air in the wooden attic tickles her nose. But she refuses to sneeze. And move. She wished for a little warmth. A blanket would be nice. Even a towel would make her happy. Sadly, this is her punishment for not assisting her father and his girlfriend with their "work". Annabelle sighed. Why didn't she just do what they told her? Well, how about it's immoral? Her father wants her to torture other children, some younger then herself, just for his amusement.

But, his girlfriend scares Annabelle the most. She was a teacher at a school not too far from where Annabelle lived. It saddened Annabelle just thinking about school. Oh, how she missed going out to play with her friends at the playground before lunch, get dirty just for fun, learn from who Annabelle thought as the greatest teacher in the world, and just escape. But her father's girlfriend…Annabelle didn't remember her. She liked to play with Annabelle's brown hair like a dolls. Pulling at it with a smile on her face, cutting it down to ear so she looked like a boy than a girl.

"Why did you have to leave, mama?" Annabelle asked the walls surrounding her. A single tear fell from her chocolate brown eyes and onto her knee, which was brought up to her quivering chin in an attempt to stay warm.

Her mother, loving and gentle in every way, left the world too soon. Annabelle was seven when she died. In the hands of her own husband outside in the yard, unknowing and unwavering from their fight. Yet every time Annabelle would look back at the scene, she never understood why he did it. Why did he hit his wife in the head with a shovel? Why more than once even though she was unmoving on the grassy ground outside? Why did he drag Annabelle up to the attic and lock the door?

Annabelle shivered again, her teeth chattering as her body tried to keep warm. She wished she could escape. She wanted to go to another part of the country, far, far away from everything she once knew. The lingering memories of how it used to be before her mother died made her stomach turn and her eyes began to burn with forming tears. Sometimes, when the bad ones came, the one side of her head would pound as if someone were hitting it with their fist. Annabelle tensed when she heard a cry from bellow her. This one sounded older. This confused Annabelle as she listened to the pleas and cries of another victim.

All too soon the pleas and cries stopped, making Annabelle wonder if they killed this one instead of letting whoever it was loose. But, the sound of oncoming footsteps up the wooden attic steps made Annabelle whimper and rethink her current wonder. The door was unlocked and flung open, hitting the wall in the process. Standing in the door way was a tall, skinny woman with blonde hair and a red dress. The dress was formal, as if she were going on a date or going to a party.

"Kat?" Annabelle asked in a small, shaky voice as she continued to shiver in the dark.

The blonde haired woman smiled in mock sweetness. "Yes, little bird. Now get up. It's time for you to meet our latest fascination."

Annabelle winced, but slowly got up on shaky legs. Kat waited for her to come close enough to the exit before grabbing her roughly by her small arm and pulling her down the stairs quickly. Annabelle struggled to keep up, her legs to weak and cold to move so quickly. But she followed, keeping her mouth shut obediently. Once they were down the stairs, Kat pulled her to the right and through another wooden door. The house was dark all throughout except for the room they entered. Inside the room sat her father in a wooden chair with a paper cup in his hand, messy black hair, and a smile on his face just like Kat. There was also a girl. As Annabelle observed her, she came to the conclusion that the girl was no older than thirteen. That was odd. Kat and her father usually only brought in girls ten and bellow. Why bring in a thirteen year old?

Her father watches as the girl sits in the middle of the room, tied up and looking down at the floor with shaky shoulders, with vast amusement. He chuckled when the teen whimpered loudly. Kat let go of Annabelle's arm and walked over to the chuckling man. She stood beside him and looked back over at Annabelle, who was frozen by the door. Kat nodded her head toward the crying teen. Annabelle began to move slowly toward the other girl, her legs moving to their own accord. She felt numb. How could she do this again? Annabelle stood beside the sobbing girl with a blank expression on her face. She learned through all of these "shows" not to show any sort of emotion while doing her part. The girl looked up at Annabelle, her crying ceasing and her face softening.

"H-hello." The teen smiled softly at Annabelle with a kindness the young girl hasn't seen in a long time. It confused her.

Yet Annabelle said nothing. Her hands moved on their own to the teen's red hair. She wrapped her fingers around a few strands, and yanked. The teen whimpered. More strands were removed until a bald spot slowly began to form. Kat then walked over with a pair of rusty scissors. She patted Annabelle on the head before sauntering back to the smiling man in the wooden chair. Annabelle looked into the teens blue eyes, which never left her as she did her job. They widened in fear as the scissors opened and closed with a _snip snap_. The young girl had to force her hand down to the girls arm. The sharp point scraped across the teen's arm, leaving a long cut behind. The teen bit her bottom lip in an attempt to keep all her cries of agony inside. But her eyes never left Annabelle. And Annabelle's never left her. It felt like hours until Annabelle was told she was done. Blood covered both of her hands. The teen was breathing heavily, her head hanging and her mouth open. Annabelle's father walked over to them and grabbed the teen's shoulders, shoving her down to the floor. Kat grabbed Annabelle by the arm, slowly pulling her along behind her.

"I forgive you." A raspy voice called to Annabelle from behind her. She turned her head and saw her father's foot on the teen's back.

Annabelle cried in the silence of the dark attic. She cried for the teen. She cried for her mother. She cried for herself. Soon her throat became pained. Annabelle curled up on the floor with her knees to her chest. It was all so much. Too much for a girl of only eight to handle. All she wanted was a friend. Someone to take care of her with care instead of hate. Sadly, her hopes of this happening were drowned in a sea of despair. She choked on more tears.

The only thought racing through her mind was the thought of how she could have helped the teen in some way. But how? She didn't know how, just how it hurt. It was an unbearable pain that racked through her whole body. The pain consumed her like darkness consumes a room when the sun goes down. The difference between the pain and the dark was that no sun was going to rise in the morning. It lingers and breaks all it takes over. Annabelle knew how to fight it away, but this time was different. The teen had forgiven her for all she had done to her. That's what broke Annabelle's already fragile heart. She had built a wall around her heart to ensure nothing got to it. But somehow the thirteen year old broke through like a train.

Annabelle picked at loose chips of wood tiredly. Her eyes stilled burned from how much she had cried. There was complete silence below her. Peaceful. That's what scared her. Did they kill the girl? Annabelle shivered. It was still freezing in her attic, and didn't feel like it was going to get warmer any time soon. To distract herself from the cold, she decided to play a game with herself. There was a lone cardboard box in one corner. Annabelle used it frequently to keep herself occupied until she grew tired enough to go to sleep. She slowly crawled over to the box and opened the top. Her small body was able to fit in the box perfectly with no struggle. She giggled happily as she tilted the box from side to side, trying to fall over. If only her mother were there. She and Annabelle would always play together when her father was away or asleep.

She played for a few minutes before her eyes grew heavy and she yawned. Annabelle curled up in the box and just closed her eyes when she heard a low singing. She strained to hear who it was and smiled. It sounded like the wounded teen below her.

_Little birdy close your eyes._

_The sun has gone down, my sweet._

_Now it's time for you to sleep…._

_Keep moving forward, my dear._

_He's not hear to haunt you now_

_So just lie down_

_Don't look into the dark_

_Just sleep, my little birdy_

_And forget the bad things that linger_

_And remember me as the singer._

Annabelle's chocolate brown eyes close while the teen sang in a raspy, tired voice. Her breathing slowed and her muscles relaxed as she slept. The teen grew silent once again, most likely going to sleep herself.

**Please review and tell me what you think of it so far. **

***Boop**


	2. Chapter 2

Annabelle was awoken from her peaceful slumber with a violent shove out of the box she slept in that night. Her eyes shot open when she hit the cold, hard wood floor. Standing in front of her was Kat, with an angry face and eyes full of disgust. She roughly pulled Annabelle to her feet and pulled her downstairs behind her. Annabelle was confused. They never brought her downstairs from the attic in the morning, only late in the afternoons or at night. Why was Kat bringing her down so early? She was shoved into the same room from last night, too tired to care. The thirteen year old was still there. But something was wrong. She was already on the floor with various cuts on her arms. Annabelle's father walked over to the teen and spat something at her with venom in his voice. Was he drunk?

"Who was singing last night, little bird?" Kat whispered sharply in Annabelle's ear. Annabelle shook in fear.

"I-I don't know, Kat." She replied timidly.

Kat hissed out breath through her teeth. "You're lying, Annabelle."

"No I not." Annabelle said desperately. She clinched her fists at her sides, trying to stay calm and show no fear. But it wasn't working.

"It was _you_, wasn't it?"

"I would never sing. I would never!" Annabelle cried, tears streaming down her face like rivers.

"Mr. Love?" Kat looked up from Annabelle to look at the man standing over the unmoving teen.

Her father looked over at them and smiled. "Was it you?"

Annabelle shook her head in desperation. He walked over to them and kneeled down so he was eye level with the scared little girl. He grabbed her by her shoulders and shook her like a doll. She whimpered when he stopped. Why wouldn't they believe her? They must be drunk. They just _have _to be. Her father threw her onto the ground, leaving her curled up on the floor as he and Kat left the room. The door was closed and locked. Annabelle tried to get up, but a sharp pain went up her body. Her ribs must be broken. It hurt so much. Annabelle cried out whenever she tried to move. Soon she covered her mouth so she could move over to the teen without making so much noise.

"H-hello?"

There was no answer.

"Are you okay?"

Still no answer.

"Please don't be dead." Annabelle whimpered when she was finally next to the motionless teen. So much pain.

There was blood coming out of the teen's wounds on her arms and some coming from her mouth. Why from her mouth? Annabelle looked over her body, her eyes scanning her for any other wounds. There, on the girls shirt, was a slit like hole. Annabelle gently pulled up her shirt, but pulled her hand away as if it were burned once she saw the cut. It was deep. Too deep to heal correctly on its own. What could a little girl of only eight do? Stitch it, of course. But with what? Than Annabelle got an idea. This was her mother's old sewing room. There could be a needle still around even in that empty room the two of them were stuck in. With all her remaining strength, Annabelle stood up with much effort.

Pain traveled throughout her body with each and every step she took as she looked around the room for a remaining needle. She looked everywhere in the small, empty room. But there was nothing she could use around. Annabelle stumbled back over to the teen and fell to her knees heavily. She took a piece of her own white shirt and grabbed the pocketknife her father had given her out of her back pocket. With great urgency, she managed to cut a chunk of her shirt off. She placed it on the teens wound, and pressed with all her might. Annabelle could feel the warm blood gathering on the cloth. It didn't seem to bother her in the least, however. She has felt and seen blood many times before. The only difference was that she was trying to help this teen other than harming her. At least not on purpose.

"I need to tie this onto your stomach somehow."

She knew just how she was going to do it. Kat and her father always left a rope in the room for when they brought in someone new. Luckily it wasn't far from the teen, so she didn't have to move very much to get it. Annabelle gently tied the cloth to the teen's body on top of the still bleeding wound. She looked down at her hands once she was finished. It seems like every day her hands are covered in someone else's blood. She curled up carefully on the floor next to the teen and stroked her bright red, soft hair. What was she going to do?


	3. Chapter 3

The floor was strangely cool underneath Annabelle's cheek as she began to stir and awaken. The room seemed different as well. It was darker and there were no windows in sight. Annabelle slowly sat up and looked around with caution. She looked next to her where the teenager was laying before she had fallen asleep. But she wasn't there. Where could she have gone? Annabelle let out a small whimper at the thought of being alone in the dark room where no light could break through the darkness. Suddenly, there was a soft touch upon Annabelle's shoulder. She jumped and looked behind her with wide, terrified eyes. The thirteen year old girl stood behind her with a soft smile on her gentle face.

"W-where are we?" Annabelle asked as she looked up at the other girl with question. The girl kneeled down and brushed a stray hair away from Annabelle's eyes.

"We're somewhere that's a lot safer than where you were. But, it's also just as dangerous." The teen told the girl in a whisper.

Annabelle noticed how the other girl held her upper stomach and how she winced every few seconds. "How did we get here?"

"I brought you here along with me. I didn't want you to suffer anymore. If I did that, I wouldn't have been able to live with myself."

"How…how did you-"Annabelle was abruptly cut off when the other girl covered her mouth. The sounds of heavy footsteps made Annabelle tense and cover her eyes tightly.

Once they were gone, the teen spoke. "We have to get out of here, alright?"

Annabelle nodded.

"Do you know how to swim?"

Annabelle shook her head, confused.

"Well, then, you'll have to go out first and I'll follow. The doors right over there. Crawl over and open it quickly. I'll be right behind you, okay?" The teen gave the directions while pointing to a door on the opposite side of the room.

The eight year old nodded and carried out what she was supposed to do. She crawled over silently to the door, trying to avoid any loose boards that could make any noise. The door handle felt weird. She could feel something scratch against her hand as she quickly opened the door as told. Annabelle was shoved out by the teen, and then she was underwater. Her lungs were already struggling for air. The teen grabbed her and headed toward the surface as fast as she could. The water was so cold and so was the air once they reached the surface. Annabelle gasped for air and looked around her with wide eyes. Why were they in the ocean? The teen began to move straight toward what Annabelle could make out as a group of stranded men. They reached them after a minute of the teen swimming with great effort with Annabelle in her arms.

"Give her here, lass." one of the men said, reaching out to take Annabelle from the teen. She reluctantly handed her over, but stayed next to him just in case he tried anything.

The man was older, possibly in his fifties, with gray hair and a growing beard. "What's your name, young lady?"

"It's Annabelle, sir."

"That's a very pretty name." the man said with a smile on his bearded face. Annabelle was taken aback. No one has been this nice to her except for the teen beside them.

"Thank you, sir."

"You can call me Holland, lassie."

"It's the Dutchman!" one of the men suddenly shouted with fear evident in his voice.

Annabelle looked up from the water she was currently observing while she talked to the man, who she now knew as Holland, and gasped. Sure enough, there was a large wooden ship moving toward them. Annabelle began to tremble in fear. Holland held onto her a little tighter and the teen began to stroke her now wet hair.

"It's going to be okay, Annabelle. Just stay close to him and me."

Annabelle nodded.

Her breath caught in her throat when the giant ship stopped next to them. A rope was slung down, followed by laughter and shouts of men. Annabelle trembled even more. There was a man standing at the top next to the rope, and he was shouting down at them. She didn't hear what he had said, but understood that they were supposed to get on or die in the freezing water. As she looked around them she knew none of these men were in good enough condition to put up a fight. Not even Holland. He grunted as he moved toward the rope with Annabelle still secure in his arms. But he never asked her to do anything to help, just kept moving until they reached the rope.

"Come on!" the man at the top yelled down at them impatiently. Holland looked down at Annabelle with uncertainty.

"Give her back to me, sir." The teen reached grabbed Annabelle gently from his arms and he made his way up the rope.

"Are…are they going to kill us?" Annabelle asked as she watched Holland get pushed to the side once he was up.

"No, I won't let them. Now grab the rope and climb up." The teen ordered, and Annabelle did so with reluctance. She didn't want to see what was up there.

She was also pushed to the side once she was up, and immediately looked for Holland. The men were being lined up. But what were the things lining them up? They were like men, but…not. It gave Annabelle the creeps. One of the beings grabbed her roughly by the arm and shoved her down to her knees beside Holland. She looked over at him and fear. Holland turned to her, giving a smile of reassurance. The teen was shoved down beside her by another being that stood behind her. Annabelle didn't understand any of this. She tensed when heavy footsteps from a distinctive boot, and a _thud_ from something Annabelle didn't know, came toward them.

"Four men and two women, captain." A rough voice said to possibly someone like them. Annabelle looked toward the voice and almost whimpered in fear.

It was a squid like man with a claw in place of his left hand, a tentacle covered right hand, and tentacles for a beard. He scared her more than the others. Maybe it was because he seemed more intimidating. He made his way toward them, looking over them as if looking for something to buy at the grocery store. Then, he stopped in front of Holland. Like the other four men and the teen, he had his head down, refusing to look up for anything. Annabelle, on the other hand, looked up at the squid man with overwhelming curiosity mixed with fear. The squid man knelt down in front of Holland while putting a lit pipe into his mouth.

"Do you fear death?" he asked Holland while blowing smoke out of what Annabelle took as his nose.

"No, I am not." Holland growled with clenched teeth. He looked up and looked at the squid like man with sharp eyes.

"Well then, to the depths with ye."

Annabelle's eyes grew wide. "No!"

The squid man turned to her with a scowl, making her shrink back. "And who are you?"

"M-my names Annabelle, sir."

"Annabelle, huh? Well, Miss Annabelle, why don't you want me to kill this man?"

"He…he didn't do anything wrong, sir." Annabelle answered timidly. The squid like man chuckled and moved so he was in front of her.

"How old are you, lass?"

"Eight."

The squid like man nodded. "Yer too young to understand the meaning of not being scared of death."

Annabelle shook her head. "My mother died and she was scared of death. I'm not scared of death, though, and I'm still here. Sometimes I don't want to be, but I'm still here."

"Take this one to my cabin. All the others put to work!" the squid man ordered his men, looking at Annabelle as he spoke before standing and leaving.

Annabelle was pulled to her feet and led to yet again another place. She looked back at the teen. What were they going to do to Holland and her? Annabelle should be worried about herself as well, but she cared more for the ones that have shown her kindness. The first bits of kindness she has had sense a year of suffering.

**Please review and tell me what you liked or disliked about this chapter. **

***Boop**


	4. Chapter 4

_Three weeks later_

Annabelle sat on the lap of Loanda, the thirteen year old, holding a pair of rusty scissors. Loanda held her tightly with both arms and all her strength as Annabelle struggled to get free. She had episodes ever sense Loanda was able to get her out of that terrible place. They occurred out of the blue. Everything turned dark in Annabelle's usually bright eyes, and not even Holland could bring the light back. Davy Jones, the captain of the Flying Dutchman, often tried to help Annabelle recover from the aftermath of the outbursts from her mind. Loanda was the one that restrained her during the episodes with great effort.

She groaned when Annabelle struck her in the ribs with her elbow. Loanda tightened her grip so the eight year old could barely move. Annabelle growled deep in her throat. It sounded so inhuman, so angry. Holland watched from the other side of the room they were in, arms crossed and eyes closed so he wouldn't have to see Annabelle's inner torment through her eyes. Jones was there as well, quiet and waiting for her to stop. It felt like hours before she finally went still. Annabelle looked over at Jones and reached out for him. He limped over, a rare smile on his face, and gently grabbed her from Loanda's arms. Annabelle was shaking in his hold, probably from the cold. Holland left the room silently as if ordered to. But Loanda stayed put. She still felt strange leaving Annabelle with the squid man. He's killed people like most here in this particular dimension. And, not for the first time, Loanda didn't feel right around him. Loanda had watched Annabelle around the captain whenever he brought her out of his cabin, and noticed a change between the two. Jones started to act differently with Annabelle around. He seemed more civil when she was there. As she observed him now with Annabelle in his arms, she wondered why he was doing this for a mere eight year old. Of course Loanda would have done this for her, but Jones insisted that he do it.

Jones smoothed down Annabelle's chestnut hair with his tentacle covered hand. Annabelle smiled contently and snuggled closer to him. She still remembered the day she first met him with Holland and Loanda. She was taken into his cabin by the one she now knows as Maccus or Shark Head when she plays around the Dutchman, and stood in the dark room with the captain. He demanded to know what she meant about her mother. Annabelle decided to tell him everything so he would understand. Ever sense that night they have grown closer. She mostly had to stay in his cabin, especially when the ship went underwater, but she didn't mind. Sometimes one of the crew members, like Maccus, would come see her and talk to her so she wouldn't be lonely while Jones was outside. Annabelle liked being on the ship. It was like a dream she never thought would come true. A dream of being free from her father and Kat with no more fear. Sadly, Annabelle knew that she would never be free from them. They would always linger in her fragile mind like shadows. So the fear was still there, the fear of having to go back and relive that nightmare. Jones tried to help her with her fear as best as he could. To Annabelle, this was enough. Just him being there with her, holding her like a child should be held in a time of need, was enough for her.

As Annabelle played with one of Jones's tentacles, she looked at Loanda with her head tilted to the side like a birds. "Where did Holland go?"

"Probably back to work outside. Don't worry about it, Annabelle." Loanda said with a tired smile.

"You need to leave now as well, lass." Jones growled, making Loanda take a step back towards the door.

Loanda left as told, leaving Annabelle alone with the captain in his cabin. Annabelle turned her head and smiled sweetly at Jones. He smiled back, but his eyes seemed different to the girl on his lap. She tilted her head up at him but said nothing. Sometimes it was best just to stay quiet. She's learned this long before she came here. It's worked for her there, for a little while. However, her father seemed to come up with some reason to punish her. Especially when he was drunk, which was often an everyday occurrence. Davy Jones tried to get her to forget these moments, but she refused each time. She had told him a few days ago that she didn't want to get rid of any sort of memories she had. He looked at her as if she were crazy. Yet he didn't push the matter after that. Loanda was another story. She was always trying to get Annabelle away from Jones. Annabelle didn't understand why she would want her to stay away from him. He never did anything bad when she was with him and nothing bad to her. To Annabelle, he was more like a father to her now.

"Can I go outside with you today?" Annabelle finally asked after a moment of silence.

Davy Jones sighed and chuckled. "You went out yesterday, Anna."

"I know. But I want to see if Holland's okay."

"You shouldn't worry about him, lass. I'm sure he's fine." Jones said, trying to reassure her as best as he could after her little episode. Her thoughts were always off balance once they were over.

"Loanda seems different, too." Annabelle said, looking down at her small hands like she did her part all over again.

Jones watched her worriedly. "She's just trying to adjust to how everything is here."

"I feel like I did something, though."

"You did nothing to that girl, Annabelle. I don't want you going around blaming yourself for something that ridiculous. Ya hear?" Jones stared down at Annabelle seriously, his voice stern but with tenderness and care.

"Okay, I won't."

"Good. Now, I have to go out there for a moment to take care of some things. Do you want Mr. Turner to come while I'm gone?"

Annabelle nodded with a sweet smile. The thought of one of her friends coming to the cabin to see her lifted all her worries in an instant. It could be so lonely in the dark covers of the cold room she stayed in so often.

"How are you today, Minnie?" Bootstrap asked Annabelle nicely.

Annabelle smiled at the nickname he has invented for her. "I'm doing alright. How have you been?"

"Better than I did a few days ago. Oh, I almost forgot. I got you a little snack."

Annabelle's eyes grew wide when he pulled an apple from one of his coat pockets. She snatched it out of his hand, ignoring his chuckle, and pulled out the pocketknife out of her back pocket. Bootstrap disapproves of her using a knife at only eight years old, but Jones prefers it. He says it's good to have a weapon on you just in case you need one. Annabelle cut a slice from the red, juicy apple and handed it to her friend. Bootstrap had learned not to decline her when she gave him something. She was a very insistent child. Annabelle than cut a slice for herself, smiling as she did so. She bit into it gratefully and watched her friend eat his. Bootstrap leaned forward in the chair he sat in and grabbed the pocketknife and apple from Annabelle's small hands. She looked at him in confusion. He sliced another piece, putting it in his mouth so he could cut another slice for Annabelle once she was finished with her first. Bootstrap loved how she took small bites when she ate. He came to the conclusion that it was because she didn't get that much food where she came from. So now she savors every bite as if it were her last. Her eyes were locked onto the hardwood floor as she ate, refusing to make eye contact with him. This had also confused him when he first met her. He wondered about her. She was such a strange girl.

"Did any new people come today? Is that why Davy had to go out there?" Annabelle suddenly asked, bringing Bootstrap out of his thoughts.

"Yes, actually. Four men I heard." He informed her. She tilted her head in curiosity as she ate her second apple slice.

"I wish Davy let me go out there with him." Annabelle said while she chewed. Bootstrap nodded in agreement. His captain couldn't keep her in here like this for the remainder of her time on the Dutchmen.

"Loanda's your companion, correct?"

Annabelle nodded, confused.

Bootstrap said nothing else, just cut another slice of the apple for Annabelle to eat.

Jones limped back into his cabin and spotted a sleeping Annabelle on the floor. He smiled tenderly and went over to her. Both of her hands were underneath her head for a pillow and her knees were curled. Why she chose to sleep on the floor when there was a bed, he didn't know. Jones carefully bent down to pick her up. She groaned softly, but went limp once again. He pulled back the blanket on the bed with great effort and placed her down onto the mattress. He then pulled the blanket over her to keep her warm. Jones didn't understand how she was able to reach a tenderness inside him that hasn't been shown to anyone in a very long time. He wouldn't say he loved her. Oh, no, not love. He just cared for her immensely. As the captain looked down at her sleeping form, he began to rethink about what she had told him when they first met. About being scared and not scared of death. The fact that she had wanted to die once, or possibly more than once, made him feel a deep pain in his stomach. He's never heard of a child wanting to die. That shocked him. But, when she told him her story, he understood why she would want such a thing. Jones just wished he could inflict pain of her father. Killing him would just traumatize the poor girl even more. He sighed deeply. That Loanda girl hated Annabelle being around him, which he couldn't blame her for. Looking back into his back ground told it all.

Jones gently climbed into the bed next to Annabelle. Her light breathing comforted him in many ways. It told him that she was okay and there. Thinking of her going into one of her episodes with no one around scared him. This happened once before a week ago. She was alone in the cabin when it suddenly happened. Loanda had been the first to hear her scream in the cabin and raced to Annabelle's aid. Holland ran to get Jones. When Jones saw Annabelle on her knee's, screaming at the top of her lungs with her hands over her ears, it stunned him. He stood there, absolutely frozen, as Loanda and Holland tried to calm her down. After it was all over she had cried and reached out for Jones. That immediately brought him out of his frozen state. Annabelle cried in his arms, getting his coat wet as she buried her face into his chest. It hurt to see her in such a disheveled state of mind. He wondered what went through her mind during the days she spent on the ship. She frequently blamed herself for her own abuse from her father, saying she did something wrong to deserve it. Jones's hatred for her father grew each time she blamed herself and every time she had one of her episodes. He just wanted to remove all of her bad thoughts and replace them with good ones.

"Goodnight, Anne." Jones whispered with a tender smile before he fell asleep beside the young girl.

**Sorry I haven't posted this chapter earlier! Please review and don't be afraid to give me advice.**

***Boop**


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